


Wings

by tresa_cho



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kink Meme, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tresa_cho/pseuds/tresa_cho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has wings. Hostile aliens discover this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a fill at the kink meme. Original prompt here: http://st-xi-kink-meme.livejournal.com/13264.html?thread=12960464#t12960464

“Bones.”

Leonard groaned. His face pressed into cool cement, and when he licked dry lips he could taste blood on them. He coughed, and the pain was instantaneous. It flared from his side, crushing in on his lungs and leaving him breathless. The room rocked under him.

“Bones! Breathe.”

He sucked in an obedient breath, and the pain faded to a constant thrum under the thunder of his heart. He forced his eyes open, meeting Jim's a few feet away.

“Thatta boy. You with me?”

“At least two cracked ribs,” Leonard said, his voice rougher than he would have liked. It _hurt_ to breathe. “Pressure on my lung. I can't-” A violent cough wrenched its way free, and his vision blacked out for an instant.

“Bones! Bones, stay with me.”

The sound of chains scraping across stone and the briefest brush of fingertips over his cheek. He blinked at Jim miserably.

“Yeah, they hit you pretty hard. You're a tough man to knock out, despite your 'Do No Harm',” Jim said with a wry smile. “ 'm proud of you.”

Leonard closed his eyes. “They were going to kill you.”

“Yeah, but you killed one of them. At least.” Jim shifted, and Leonard caught sight of the chains binding his wrists together. Leonard flexed his own wrists, behind his back and lashed together similarly. Cold steel bit into his flesh. Jim followed his gaze. “I twisted around.”

“You're bleeding,” Leonard said, finally seeing the red seeping around Jim's wrists.

“I'll be fine. Spock's on his way. We just need to stay alive till he gets here,” Jim said.

“What do they want?”

“Same thing everyone wants,” Jim said, irritation seeping into his voice. “Keep the Federation out of my lands, give me money, blah, blah, blah-”

Jim was cut off by the door opening to their cell. Jim pushed himself up into a crouch, his legs forming a protective barrier between Leonard and their alien captors.

“You will tell your Federation to make reparations for the unlawful death of our comrades,” the one in front said. Leonard forced himself to breathe evenly.

“I won't. And furthermore, you will release my crewman. He is injured and needs immediate medical attention. He's a doctor, do you understand? A healer. He's no threat to you,” Jim said.

“He fights like a warrior. Qek.” The one speaking nodded to one behind him, and Qek stepped around Jim. He reached down and before Jim could stop him, grasped Leonard by the hair and _yanked_.

Leonard was dragged to his knees, and Jim threw himself at the offending alien. The hand clenched in his hair released him as Jim threw a double-fisted punch to the alien's stomach. Qek recovered quickly and backhanded Jim, sending him to the floor. Leonard forced himself to stay upright despite his ribs' protests.

Qek dug one fist into Jim's hair, the other cupped his chin, holding his face firmly as the leader stepped forward. Jim grasped Qek's thick hands, but they didn't budge from their hold.

“Your Federation will remember the name of Le'chi by the time I'm through with you,” the alien said, snarling. Jim could do nothing but glare.

Le'chi clubbed Jim with his huge fist, and Leonard heard something crack. A flash of light exploded in the small room, blinding him, and he was hit in the face with a solid wall of warm feathers. The surprise and impact sent him backwards, and he landed awkwardly on his side. Pain drilled through his entire body, and he choked on a cough wedged in his throat. The coppery taste of blood stung the back of his mouth.

His vision cleared, and his uninjured lung shoved its way into his throat. Jim panted on his elbows and knees, dripping blood from his split lip. Sweeping light-brown wings unfurled from his back, feathers cascading to the floor and pushing back the surprised aggressors. Leonard saw the remains of the inhibitors clink to the floor from Jim's ear.

Jim swore, and tried to stand. The chain connecting his manacles to the ground didn't provide that sort of mobility, and his wings spasmed against the air. Qek and Le'chi jerked out of their stupor, grabbing at Jim's wings. Qek overbalanced, and Leonard could see the break before it happened- there was only one way for him to fall-

The snap of bone was horrifyingly loud in the small cell, but Jim's echoing cry was what burned Leonard.

“You're hurting him!” Leonard said hoarsely, pulling at his restraints. “Leave him alone! You've already got us, damn it!”

Qek kept one foot on Jim's broken wing, and Le'chi approached the other, fascinated. He ran his fingers over the firm ridge and Jim shuddered against the cold stone floor.

“Do all your Federation captains possess such things?” Le'chi asked, “Or is this James Kirk special?”

Leonard bit down the fury rising in him as Le'chi sank his fingers deep into Jim's wing feathers. “Kirk comes from a line of aliens that were stranded on Earth since the dawn of humanity. They grew and developed with humans. Not all humans have wings,” Leonard said.

Jim moaned.

“Jim. Jim!” Leonard practically threw himself to the ground. His shoulders wrenched painfully, and he could feel his ribs grate against themselves. “Jim! Eyes on me.”

Jim rolled his head, and Leonard caught his eyes but not his attention. He was slipping into shock.

“Jim, I need you to listen to me,” Leonard said, twisting as far as his restraints would allow. “ _Jim_!”

Qek stepped, crunching his foot down on another part of Jim's wings. Jim let out a keening cry, and his eyes rolled up. His entire body shook where he lay.

“Jim, what's the square root of one?” Leonard gasped through a stab of pain.

Jim blinked at him, uncomprehending.

“Root of one, Jim,” Leonard persisted.

“One,” Jim rasped.

“Root of two.”

“What-?” Qek stepped again, and Jim choked down a howl of pain. When he opened his eyes again they glittered with unshed tears.

“Jim, what's the square root of two?”

“One point four one four two-”

“Square root of three?”

Jim inhaled, shaking. “One point seven three two-”

“Five?”

Leonard got a broken chuckle. “Two two three six-”

And then the ceiling collapsed.

...*...

“Doctor. Doctor McCoy.”

Leonard groaned, but the voice persisted. He opened his eyes and saw Christine leaning over his bed. She smiled.

“That's more like it. How do you feel, Doctor?”

“Like a ten ton ship just landed on me.” Leonard pushed himself up into a sitting position. He was in his MedBay, which meant they had been rescued. He could breathe easy, and a quick sweep of his fingers along his ribs uncovered no lingering breaks or cracks.

“Well, Spock's rescue pod did essentially that, so good job,” Christine said, handing him his chart. He skimmed it and found his initial diagnosis had been correct, for the most part. His wrists had suffered major abrasions from him twisting the manacles, and a rib shard had started to push into a lung when their rescue had arrived. Concussion, and multiple contusions were the only other injuries.

“Where's Jim?” Leonard swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He wavered slightly, but gathered his balance before Christine could make it around.

“Stable. We haven't-” She hesitated. “We need an expert for his wings, sir. His right wing suffered extensive trauma.”

“Who's on their way?” Leonard asked, pushing past her.

“We've sent missives to anyone in the area with expertise in the field. We haven't gotten a response from anyone yet.” She handed him Jim's chart, gesturing towards a closed off section of the ward.

“Thank you Nurse,” Leonard said. She smiled softly at him and left him to slip into the section.

Jim was laid out on his stomach, two cots bracketing his bed. His tawny wings splayed across the cots on either side. His right wing had been bandaged and splinted to the best of his team's abilities, but this was a bit out of their league. Jim's left wing twitched as cool air brushed over it from Leonard's entrance. Jim was awake.

Leonard rounded the beds slowly, crouching at Jim's shoulders. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey back,” Jim said, face half hidden by his pillow.

“How are you feeling?” Leonard asked.

“Shitty,” Jim said. “Did you have to sew them back on?”

“No, Jim.” Leonard set the charts on the ground and reached with one hand to brush the ridge of the uninjured wing. “We're calling in a specialist to look at your right wing. I'll keep you comfortable till then.”

“The Fibonacci Sequence?” Jim smiled slightly.

“It was the first thing I could think of,” Leonard said, letting his fingers soothe the feathers down. Jim closed his eyes.

“ 's nice,” he said. Leonard threaded his fingers gently through the longer feathers sweeping out from Jim's shoulders. The wing rippled along the motion of his hand, and he smiled. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, touching his forehead to Jim's bare shoulder. Jim rested his hand on Leonard's head. “You all right?”

“Yeah. Nothing a couple regens couldn't fix,” Leonard said, shifting so his lips moved over Jim's skin. He tasted sterile, the normal flavour of his skin wiped away by the sanitisers. Jim urged him to turn, and met his lips hungrily. “Easy, Jim.”

“That was close.” Jim breathed against his lips. His fingers tightened along the back of Leonard's head. “I can still feel him-”

“Hush, Jim.” Leonard allowed his lips to linger before sliding his mouth along the firm line of Jim's jaw, towards his vulnerable throat. Leonard increased the surety of his strokes along Jim's wing, pressing his fingers deep into warm brown feathers. Jim buried his face in Leonard's shoulder with a soft breath of contentment.

“Bones, I can't-” Jim's cheeks burned against Leonard's skin.

“I know. I'm your doctor, Jim,” Leonard said with a soft laugh. “Just let me help you relax so you don't strain anything further. It's all right. You've had worse.”

“I didn't expect the inhibitors to break,” Jim said after a moment.

“Scotty can make you new ones. We have to wait till you heal up anyway before putting them back into the other dimension. Hiding them doesn't make them heal properly.” Leonard shifted to get more comfortable on the floor, and continued to tug his fingers gently through Jim's feathers. “Maybe Spock knows of a way to reinforce them so we don't have to deal with this again.”

Jim grunted noncommittally, his fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of Leonard's neck. “Don't you have doctoring to do?”

“What do you think I'm doing, brat?” Leonard stared as Jim shifted his wing, lifting and curling it around them, encasing Leonard in warmth.

“I don't know, but... Can you keep doing it?” Jim asked softly, staring at Leonard as if Leonard would ever say anything but 'yes' to him.

“I've got ya, Jim,” Leonard said as Jim's eyes slipped shut under the influence of the sedatives. He drew his lips over Jim's knuckles, clasped tightly in his hand. “Rest.”


End file.
